A Final Visit
by Fairyfinder
Summary: Hela has not heard from her mother since her banishment. Not until she feels a disturbance in Asgard and wonders what in the nine realms it could be. (Way angstier than I intended it to be.)


Something in Asgard was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. Hela could feel it deep inside of her and coursing through her veins. The people in her realm were mourning, she could feel their tears on her skin and the heat given off by the lanterns they would send to the sky.

"But who would they cry for," She mused. If it weren't for the sick feeling in her gut she would have found this situation entertaining, "Not Dad. I'd be free then."

Pushing her inky hair out of her face, she gazed out at Niflheim and the moaning, groaning dead that she ruled over. No one here would be upset if she was gone. They'd be glad to be rid of her. Not like in Asgard, where the death of a ruler meant a week of gray sadness before feasts to honor them and then the coronation of a new king or queen.

So if it wasn't her dear old father who had died and caused the anguish in Asgard, then who was dead? It had to be a warrior, going to Valhalla, or else they'd end up on her doorstep. And no one of any interest had shown up in millenia. All of the interesting people who died always happened to be warriors for some cause or another. Though the rules clearly stated that they must die in battle, the rules were also lenient on what was considered a battle.

Cancer was a battle, depression was a battle, dying while working for an important cause was a battle. Norns! Everything was a fight these days and Hela was only getting the weak boring people. Though, she supposed Valhalla must be absolutely stuffed with people and perhaps that made things uncomfortable.

"Who am I kidding?" She groaned, sitting on her balcony and swinging her legs in a very unqueenly manner, "It's probably one of those places that goes on forever and can never be too full."

Apart from feeling the certain wrongness of death in Asgard, now Hela was also in a foul mood because she didn't know who had died and she really didn't like not knowing. And, unless it was someone who played a big role in the fate of the realms, she likely wouldn't know who it was that caused such crushing sadness in her people.

Resigned to this, she continued to sit on her balcony and stare at the impressive mist that was swirling through the land. She missed Fenris. Or any dog. Or doglike creatures. They always made for good distractions when she couldn't stop thinking about something she'd never have answers too. But it wasn't likely that a dog would show up in Niflheim any time soon. All dogs were warriors at heart, which might have been why Hela loved them so much, and they always ended up in Valhalla.

"Well Father," She muttered, "You've certainly punished me well. Making me queen of the most boring realm of them all was truly a good way to get rid of me and make me suffer. I'll never have any visitors!"

"Don't be so sure, my child," A soft voice said behind Hela.

She nearly fell off the balcony in shock, but she didn't let that show. A queen was never taken by surprise. A queen never cried either, unless she turned around and saw her mother smiling at her.

Hela found tears cascading down her cheeks as she slowly walked over to her mother. She wanted to say so many things, but everything caught fast in her throat. Frigga only smiled and reached out a hand. Hela feared taking it, least it was one of the queen of Asgard's illusions. The illusions that had always made her laugh as a child. Now she was fairly certain she would sob if it was an illusion and sob if it wasn't. For if it was it meant her mother was not really there, but if it wasn't it meant… her mother wasn't really there.

"Look at you," Frigga said, "So beautiful, as you always have been. My precious daughter."

Her hand reached out and gently wiped the tears from Hela's face, taking ashy makeup with it. Upon feeling the contact to her skin, Hela could not help but crush her mother in a fierce hug, more tears coming now.

"All is well, my dear, all is well."

"No it isn't!" Hela said, refusing to let go of her mother, "You aren't meant to be here! You cannot be here! Because if you are here then…"

"Everyone dies eventually, Hela, you should know this better than most," Frigga stroked her hair, "It was my time."

"But," Hela pulled back and looked at her mother, "You should not be _here_."

"Oh don't worry, child, I'm only passing through. I am on my way to Valhalla, but I decided to take a deature. I have not seen you in so long, I thought I might stop by for some mead."

Hela wiped her tears away on her sleeve and hugged her mother once more. Her mother who had trained her in magic. Her mother who had found a black wolf pup for her and gifted it to her when Odin would not allow her to play with the other children her age. Her mother who had wielded daggers much like the ones Hela favored. Her mother who _loved_ her.

When they parted, Hela went to her table and conjured some of the finest mead she was able and poured two mugs worth. Frigga came and sat across from her, still smiling.

"How was it done," Hela demanded, "Who did it?"

"It does not matter now."

"It does. For whoever it was will feel the bite of death eventually and when they do I will not care how they died, I will steal them away and lock them up here."

"Vengeance even after death. I do believe Malekith has made a mistake in killing the mother of the queen of the dead," Frigga raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her mead.

"Malekith? The king of the Dark Elves? The one who my grandfather fought during the last convergence?"

"The same. Though, it was not him who plunged the blade in my side," She rubbed her side as if it still ailed her, "It was under his command."

"Then he will rot here in Niflheim when he is dead, and I assume Father will ensure the elf is killed soon," Hela crossed her arms, wishing she was the one who would be able to avenge her mother.

"He will. And I know you will do as you see fit," Frigga took another sip, "This is excellent mead, by the way."

"From Alfheim. Some dead elf brought it with him and I have been saving it for a special occasion," Hela smiled a little, "Of course, I never hear word of special occasions here so I take a sip every year on my birthday and every year on the anniversary of the day dear old Dad banished me."

"You know that he only did that for the good of the realms."

"And why did he suddenly start caring about that?" Hela snorted, "He raised me to take from them. He raised me to conquer and I did so. I guess he feared I wouldn't stop taking from the other realms and perhaps start taking from him!"

"He realized the error of his ways," Frigga pointed out, "He has done nothing but good for the realms since. Even when it has meant a poor fate for his offspring."

"Why did you not stop him, Mother? Didn't you care that he was sending me away?" Everything regal had left her voice and she felt like a little girl, begging her mother for a story. Even though she knew that she would not like the tale that was told.

"Do not," Frigga reached over and squeezed Hela's hand, "Do not even ask me that. Of course I cared. I pleaded with him to soften your sentence. I begged him not to banish you here."

The Asgardian queen had tears in her eyes now too.

"He has always listened to you before, Mother, why did he forsake your words on that occasion?"

"Because he was right, my darling, darling daughter. You were out of control! You killed the Valkyries - your sisters in arms! Hela, if you had not done that then I might have understood. I might have had more sympathy," Frigga said, "But the things you have done…"

"Are unforgivable?" Hela pulled her hand away sharply.

"Hela, why must your ambition cloud your judgement? I believe there is good in you, but you want too much of the realms. You must put that aside-"

"No," Hela stood up, "I will not put aside what he raised me to do. Why should I care for the Valkyrie? Odin did not allow me to speak to them. Odin did not allow me to speak to anyone! I was his perfect weapon and war was all that he trained me for! He told be to be insatiable and so I am."

"My daughter, please learn from your time here. Reflect on this. I know how your father treated you was also an unforgivable act, but he has changed."

"Then he should have taught me to change with him," Hela spat, eyes darkening as she turned back toward her balcony, "Goodbye, Mother."

"Hela please, I do not want my final words with you to be of anger and bitterness."

"Goodbye."

"I love you. Always remember that."

Hela made no comment and when she turned around her mother was gone. Then it hit her that Frigga was truly, truly gone. Never to be seen again. Never to smile with again. Never to love her again. Now there was no one left who would.

 **A/N: Sooooooo... that was angstier than I meant it to be. I swear, I was going to make it a light hearted "goodbye" story, but now look what I've done! I apologize, but I hope you liked it nonetheless. :) Thank you so much for reading, I love you for it!**


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